


Last Moment

by KittensAndTea



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Character Study, Desert Bluffs typical violence, Does this count as graphic depictions of violence? Maybe..., No happy ending..., Pre-Strex Kevin, i guess, poor kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12185121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittensAndTea/pseuds/KittensAndTea
Summary: In his last moments, Kevin hated Cecil Palmer.





	Last Moment

Kevin choked down his fear, glancing around his studio one last time. It was quiet. Kevin had never complained about silence; Desert Bluffs could be a very loud town, and peace and quiet was amazing the few times it came around. But now... His interns were gone, his friends, his whole town by now. He was the only one left.

StrexCorp had bought everything except his tiny radio station.

"Kevin!" His name, shouted impossibly loud. It was the voice of his friend, but not. He could see them, standing outside now, though his window was boarded. The representatives wore the faces of his friends, but they weren't the people he knew. Their smiles, impossibly wide, like gashes across their faces. Their clothes were stained with the blood of his friends. Those who he'd fought, and lost with. It would be stained with his, too, soon. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold them back.

And he had nothing to fight with. And he didn't know if he could bare hurting those standing outside, who looked like people he cared for dearly. He ripped his microphone away from its place on his desk, gripping it tightly as he walked downstairs.

Kevin stood at the door, the only thing now barring him from the representatives.

He closed his eyes, allowing his vision to swim upwards. He surveyed the town, his, once lovely, home. Now, he could only see smiling horrors, and the corpses of those who fought too hard, or weren't useful, or didn't fill some other criteria that StrexCorp set. This was not his home any longer. The radio station was the only remnant of the place he remembered.

He dragged an arm over his face, hopefully removing all the tears that stained his cheeks.

His fate was decided. He would die either way. Kevin had always promised Grandma Josephine that he'd go down fighting. He reminded himself of this, as he slowly unlocked the door, pulled it open, stepped through it.

The desert sun was bright, and hot. It looked like the sun he knew, but it felt wrong, somehow. Sinister, and malicious.

He brandished his microphone at them, a feeble show of strength, he knew. A woman who had once been his friend, Lauren, headed the representatives. Her grin was as terrible as the others, even as she spoke.

"Kevin! It's so good of you to finally join us!" She smiled, "The Smiling God is _so_ looking forward to your being here!" She smiled.

Kevin's brows lowered. He refused to submit to the Smiling God; he'd sooner die.

"I won't let you take the station!" He yelled at the group, wincing when his voice cracked. Lauren grinned, wider still.

"You _will_ , Kevin." She told him. The still group behind her moved, finally, approaching his spot in front of the doors.

He gripped the microphone tighter, as if it would help him from his current predicament.

He watched the smiling faces of those who he had once so lovingly told the news. Naïvely thinking that nothing would ever usurp the job that he loved.

Then, they were upon him. He lashed out with his microphone, trying not to think about who he was hitting. Some fell to the ground, but it didn't take long for him to be overpowered.

They had no weapons, only sharp nails, and sharp teeth. He could feel as they ripped into him, claws slashing at his tattoos, breaking them, ripping at him, and through him. Someone cut through both his palms, and his arms went numb, the vision he'd once had in them completely gone.

He closed his eyes against the pain, but all he could see was a burning whit light. It invited him, join it. He clenched his bleeding hands into fists, refusing, but he could already feel his hold on himself slipping. If he woke again, it would not be him. In the brightness behind his eyelids, he remembered Night Vale's radio host. What the man had told him. And he hated him. He hated him for lying. Hated him for giving him hope. Hated him with all his being. This was all he had left. The Smiling God heard, and promised retribution.

And then Kevin was just memories.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so...! I've written like ten fics for WTNV that will never see the light of day, I hate this one the least, so . Idk how to write Kevin though, it's probably horribly out of character. Feedback? Questions? Idk, any thing else? All welcome!
> 
> Here is my Tumblr; mochatea-and-kittens ! Follow it to see ... Well ... Nothing, I don't really post much .... Message it if you wanna chat, though! I love chats!


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